


It's Over

by paranoid_parallax



Series: You're Not Alone [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Parents, Allura (Voltron) Lives, Altean Alchemy (Voltron), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Childhood Trauma, F/M, Flashbacks, Gen, Injury, Kuron (Voltron) Lives, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Lotor (Voltron) Lives, Mentioned Haggar (Voltron), Mentioned Zarkon (Voltron), Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Trauma, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_parallax/pseuds/paranoid_parallax
Summary: A bad night for both Shiro and Lotor ends with them unintentionally hurting each other during flashbacks. After taking a bit of time to recover, they and Kuron talk about some of the trauma they each experienced at the hands of the Galra, and figure out how to avoid similar incidents in the future.
Relationships: Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Kuron & Lotor (Voltron), Kuron & Shiro (Voltron), Lotor & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: You're Not Alone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590568
Comments: 10
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> set in an AU where Voltron was sacrificed instead of Allura, Lotor survived the rift, and both Shiro and Kuron are alive (though Kuron isn't in the first chapter)

Lotor awoke in a panic, drenched in cold sweat. He had tangled his limbs in the blanket while asleep, and now felt it constricting around him, grasping, strangling… Frantically, he struggled to fling it away, inadvertently tearing at it with his claws in his haste to free himself.

He lay there for a moment, panting, as he reassured his brain that this was reality and the dreams had been just that.

Even now that Honerva and Zarkon were gone for good, he could still feel their anger leaching into his bloodstream from somewhere beyond. He knew consciously that his parents were dead, but the memories were leaking, oozing their way out from under any lid he tried to keep on them and encroaching further and further into his current life.

It was one of those days where he felt inexplicably as though something were terribly wrong. Something he couldn’t quite place, but that nonetheless weighed heavily on his mind and made him feel almost ill.

No more sleep for tonight, unfortunately. Lotor decided to take a walk.

Resigned, he dragged himself wearily to his feet and got dressed.

——————————

“Can’t sleep?”

Lotor resisted the urge to flinch, turning around to face the intruder. It was the former Champion, the former Black Paladin, the captain of this ship. “Captain Shirogane,” he acknowledged politely.

“Call me Shiro.”

He frowned, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “Why do you renounce your title? You’ve certainly earned it.”

Captain Shirogane laughed, stepping into the room. “I’m not _renouncing_ it. There’s just no need for formalities right now— it’s just us in here.”

“Alright… Shiro.”

“What are you still doing up?”

Lotor’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I could ask the same of you.”

The captain shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.” He spoke so casually, appearing unguarded. _Why?_ What sort of game was he playing?

“Neither could I,” he ventured warily, eyes trained carefully on Shirogane.

The captain looked hesitant for a moment. “Nightmares?” he asked quietly.

_What?_

Lotor’s blood ran cold.

_No. No!_

It was her again. Wearing the face of a friend, just like she had done so many times before— even with a clone of this same man. He had been such a fool. She had been in his head again— she knew— she’d seen how afraid he was of her, she would be angry and punish him and the fear would get worse and the cycle would continue until—

Lotor didn’t even realize he was stumbling backward in a panic, until he felt an impact and realized he had tripped and fallen to the floor.

Haggar’s latest puppet took a step closer to him.

“No! Get away from me!” He should not have left his sword in his quarters. He should not be wandering the Atlas unarmored and unarmed— it was not that he was entirely defenseless like this, but it was still a poor decision that could leave him at a disadvantage.

The captain looked… _concerned_? “It’s okay.” He took a couple of steps closer, but stopped when Lotor bared his teeth fiercely and scratched at the floor with his claws. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

“Liar!” he snarled, finally scrambling to his feet. “Stop trying to confuse me!”

Lotor saw something wild flash in the human’s eyes as he began advancing on him, claws out and expression no doubt murderous.

Shirogane ducked under Lotor’s first swing at him, darting in and slamming that Altean arm into his gut with surprising force.

_“Quiznak!”_

In the split second Lotor was doubled over in pain, the Champion’s metal fist collided with his jaw with a crunch, and the world sparked violently behind his eyes for an instant before dropping away entirely.

——————————

Groaning, Lotor opened his eyes. “Wh—”

His tongue was not cooperating. He had clearly been drugged, though whatever it was appeared to be wearing off. He felt faintly sleepy and confused. _What had happened?_

His jaw appeared to lack normal range of motion. An injury, then. Managing to reach a shaky hand up to his face, he felt bandages.

 _Right._ The Champion had attacked him. He scrambled to sit up— was he still aboard the Atlas? Had he harmed anyone else? Where was Haggar— _Oh._

_Dead._

_But then why—_

_How—_

Lotor shook his head as if to clear it, and a slight pain shot through his jaw. Pain medication, then— or perhaps anesthesia, if he had needed surgery. Probably not intended to sedate him beyond what was necessary.

He breathed a sigh of relief, slumping back onto his elbows.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” A human doctor stood above him.

Unsure if speaking would worsen the injury, he nodded.

The doctor asked him a few questions that he answered to the best of his ability. Apparently such an injury could take only a few weeks for a human to heal, but based on similar injuries in the past, Lotor estimated it would be about double that time for him. His Altean blood would slow things down considerably here; Galra tended to heal much faster, if less neatly.

No wonder the Champion had been so successful in the arena. Like the Galra, his people were born fighters.

True, they had no claws, no fangs, no fur or scales— not to mention their small stature. They looked rather helpless, but that was a deception. They were scrappy and resourceful, they could survive just about any injury under the right conditions, and when faced with extreme stress, their physical capabilities could increase.

Lotor had to admit he sort of admired the humans, but he also shuddered at the idea of being attacked by one again.

Especially this specific one. He was particularly strong for his species, and unlike most of them, he was an experienced fighter. And that _arm_ — Lotor would hate to be hit with it again.

“Has Champion been captured?” His words came out slightly slurred, and he couldn’t open his mouth very far, but he managed.

The doctor looked confused. “Who?”

“Shiro.”

“Oh, no. Captain Shirogane is fine.”

 _I don’t doubt it._ He mumbled a vague thanks. _They don’t know, do they?_

After being questioned about his level of pain, he was given a bit more of whatever medication they had him on— he hoped there would be no adverse effects, as humans were hardly knowledgeable about Galra or Altean bodies— and soon drifted off to sleep again.

——————————

When he next awoke, Allura was there by his side. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit better.” His head felt clearer, though speaking was still something of a chore.

“Good.” She looked relieved.

“Where’s Shiro?”

“Oh.” Her gaze flicked toward the floor. “Shiro… hasn’t been doing too well. He’s furious with himself for losing control. He didn’t mean to hurt you, you know— he just panicked.” She looked up at him, and the glimmer of fear in her eyes stung. “He— he said you attacked him.”

He took a moment to compose his thoughts so he could get them out in as few words as possible. “I panicked too. Thought Haggar was back, controlling him… Didn’t mean to hurt him either. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Allura’s resulting laugh was slightly jittery, a release of tension more than anything. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just— I’m glad at least it was just a misunderstanding. It wasn’t either of your fault. That’s good. Sorry, I’m rambling—”

“My fault. I attacked first.”

“Hmm. True.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “But you _are_ the one with a jaw fracture. I say call it even.”

Lotor returned her smile.

“If I’m careful of the jaw, can I hug you?”

He nodded, and she knelt beside the bed to embrace him, making sure not to touch his face. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he croaked.

“How long will it take you to heal? I suppose you can probably estimate better than the Earth doctors. I mean, they’re not bad, considering their technology… isn’t too advanced, but they haven’t dealt with Alteans or Galra until recently.”

He shrugged. “Long time.”

“Shall I speed it up?”

Her conspiratorial grin got a laugh out of him, and he nodded.

“Okay.” Touching her fingertips tentatively to his jaw, careful not to press too hard, she closed her eyes.

He could see the glow of quintessence from her hands in his peripheral vision, and it wasn’t long before the lingering pain in his jaw subsided. As she took her hands away, glow fading, he opened his mouth and shifted the jaw around a bit, testing. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Allura smiled at him. “Glad to help.” She paused for a moment. “You know, I think once you’ve rested a bit more and you’re feeling better, you and Shiro should maybe have a talk.”

Nodding his agreement, he leaned back against the pillow again, half-closed eyes still on his girlfriend. She was here. It was going to be alright.

Allura was a true Altean alchemist. A healer, not a killer. She had beaten Honerva before, and she could do it again.

They were safe.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, Lotor was cleared to leave the medical bay, and gratefully returned to his own room.

At first thought, it was nice to have a door that locked, and no one who seemed especially intent on breaking it down. Still, he had been spied on, followed, and imprisoned one too many times by the witch and her lackeys to ever truly feel he had any privacy.

Lotor knew it was foolish to worry. It wasn’t as though he was hiding anything anyway… this time. Yet every time he heard footsteps pass by in the hallway, or really any sound at all, he woke up immediately. He’d been inadvertently trained long ago to be a light sleeper, so that a threat could never sneak up on him. The only time he slept more deeply was when he had a nightmare, or about once a week when the exhaustion really got to him. Waking at the slightest noises made trying to sleep well on the Atlas a near-impossible chore, no matter the time of day or night.

Well, he supposed such things were rather artificially created out here in space, but still. Couldn’t they all be silent during just a few designated hours? Was that really such an impossible request?

Frustrated, having woken up for the fifth time that night, Lotor got out of bed. Time for a different approach.

He crawled under his bed, lying on his back— the space was so tight, there was no room to even turn on his side if he wanted to— and wedged a folded pillow next to each ear.

Hopefully there would be no more disturbances.

_Father was furious._

_What had he done wrong? He had gone far beyond what was expected of him in his training— he knew he was small and unsightly and pathetic, but he was making up for that as best he could. He didn’t want to be hit again, please, he’d do anything—_

_He never meant to be disrespectful, either. Sometimes he just had questions, he couldn’t help his curiosity, but he apologized for the stupid ones. He was sorry, really, please don’t hate him—_

_Why was Father so disappointed in him?_

_What was wrong with him?_

_Altea._

_Altea was burning. Burning before his eyes, and his mother was down there, dying alone and afraid, no, please, don’t do this—_

_He would be the last Altean._

_At least there would be a last. Ven’tar’s planet, in flames as well, had no such luck. Another victim of the Empire. Another he’d failed to save._

_He was not a victim. He was merely a cog in his father’s evil machine. A killer. There was blood on his hands, so much of it. So much death— he’d only wanted to fix things, and he’d failed so horribly—_

_The witch swam into focus before his eyes, hand raised to strike._

_“Lotor.” His mother was in her place now. “My son.”_

_He took a step toward her, and she shocked him with the witch’s power. Screaming in pain, he fell to the ground. She shocked him again._

_Her son, he thought dimly. The son that had driven her to addiction. The son that had broken a genius, a would-be legend. The son that deserved everything she’d done and more, but he was sorry really he was couldn’t she understand he hadn’t meant to please I love you—_

_He could feel her disappointment as he blacked out._

It took Lotor a moment to realize that he was awake, and another to realize that he was crying.

Odd. That hadn’t happened in decades.

Suddenly, he was all too aware of his position under the bed, and what had once felt comforting was now a claustrophobic nightmare. He scrambled so frantically to get out that he made the task harder than it should have been. Finally clawing his way into open air, he sat breathing heavily for several seconds, hair plastered to his skin with sweat.

He had to get up. He couldn’t do this. They would find him; they would punish him— for his weak body, for his cold heart, for his emotionality, for his distancing, for his Altean blood, for his Galra blood, for being born, for being alive, for being a burden and a disappointment and their greatest regret—

There was a knock at the door, and Lotor jumped. Regaining composure as best he could, he said, “You may enter.”

A muffled voice came from the other side. “It’s locked.”

_Oh. Right._ Getting to his feet wearily, Lotor answered the door to find Captain Shirogane standing before him.

Not in uniform, any uniform. He supposed Shiro was apt enough, then, and it _was_ what the man claimed to prefer. He still didn’t feel certain that that wasn’t some test of his respect, but hopefully he would be able to figure that out before he had to address the man by name again.

“You look like hell.”

Lotor just blinked at him, a bit taken aback by his bluntness.

“Sorry, uh, I didn’t mean to be rude,” Shiro said sheepishly. “I just… I was up, and I heard screaming, and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” His tone was strangely kind.

“I—” He stopped himself before he could reveal the truth.

“I’m not judging you,” Shiro added. “You know, I— well, first of all, I also wanted to apologize, while I’m here.”

“And I owe you an apology as well.” Lotor sighed. “Alright, come in.”

Shiro entered, and they both sat down on the bed.

“I’m sorry for attacking you,” Lotor said quietly.

“Apology accepted. I’m sorry for fracturing your jaw.”

“I accept your apology, Shiro.”

“Can I ask, if you don’t mind… why you did that?”

Lotor bristled at the question. “I thought my apology was accepted.”

“It is… I just want to understand. Hey, I’ll go first.” Shiro took a deep breath, looking suddenly uneasy as his gaze darted toward the floor. “When you came at me like that… it was just too much like what happened so many times when I was a prisoner of the Galra. Like in the arena, or with certain guards, and I just— I had a flashback. I was terrified, and the instinct was to fight for my life. I didn’t mean to hurt _you_ at all, but I feel awful about it.”

“I’m sorry, Shiro. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.” He felt terribly guilty now for mistrusting the captain. “You have no need to feel badly about your actions, they were perfectly understandable.” He hesitated. “If you don’t mind my asking— what is a _flashback_ in this context?”

“Oh.” He looked almost relieved, as though he were glad to be sharing information rather than emotions. Lotor couldn’t tell if he was relating to Shiro or simply projecting his own feelings onto the man. “It’s a PTSD thing— oh, right, that’s post-traumatic stress disorder— right, I’m not making it any clearer, am I? Basically, it’s a mental illness that often appears after a traumatic event. Some of the main symptoms are feeling like it’s happening again right now even though it’s over— that’s a flashback— and nightmares about it, memory loss, feeling on high alert constantly, startling easily, trouble sleeping… and a whole bunch of other weird emotional shit that someone else could probably explain better.”

“I see.” Lotor had to take a moment to process that.

“Sorry, I know it’s weird… I didn’t mean to burden you with all that—”

“No, no. I just…” _Don’t admit a weakness don’t admit a weakness don’t admit a weakness don’t—_ “I think I had a flashback too, then.”

Shiro looked up at him, offering his full attention, and he felt unusually self-conscious all of a sudden.

“I, uh… I thought you were the clone.”

“My brother has a name.” It had taken Shiro some time to accept his clone— and vice versa— but they had since come to think of one another as twin brothers.

“Sorry. I thought you were…” _What was it?_ “Kuron, right?”

“No. That’s what _they_ called him.” His features twisted angrily, and he gave a harsh laugh. “It means ‘clone’ in Japanese.” _One of the Earth languages,_ Lotor assumed. “The witch must have dug through my brain for that one— but then, of course she did, she gave him all my memories…” Shiro stared off into space for a moment, then snapped abruptly back to the present. “Sorry. Please go on, I didn’t mean to stop you, I just hate what they did to him and me and everyone and— anyway. He chose the name Gyro.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not your fault. I’m not angry with you.”

“Okay.” That was difficult to believe, but he could try.

“Go ahead. Really.”

“I… I thought you were Gyro. Being controlled by the witch again. When you said something about nightmares, I didn’t realize you were just sympathizing, I thought she was messing with my head again.”

“She did that to you too?” He seemed surprised.

“Yes. Well, not mind control, but mind reading, and hallucinations, and things like that. Usually mind reading, when I was young and didn’t have the strength to escape her yet. She always liked to spy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He shrugged. “Anyway, Gyro and I actually became friends of some sort when I thought he was you. When Haggar revealed herself… that stung. I thought I had a real ally, but all that time, it had been _her_ watching me.”

“Do you know how much of it was him and how much was her?” Shiro asked gently.

“Well… I suppose not, but—”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Oh. I guess I hadn’t thought of that, somehow.”

“That’s alright. I was actually wondering if the three of us could talk at some point soon— he has PTSD too, and based on recent events, I think we should all figure some stuff out together before things blow up like that again.” He laughed. “We can make a weird little support group. For survivors of Zarkon’s empire.”

Lotor couldn’t help his flinch at the mention of his father. “That sounds… alright. When did you want to discuss things?”

“Anytime.”

“Well, tomorrow would be fine.”

“Sounds good.” Shiro smiled. “See you then.” He got to his feet, then paused. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes.” Lotor returned the smile. “I’ll be alright. And you?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Shiro. Thank you.”

“Thank you. For listening. It means a lot.” Before Lotor could say anything more, he had slipped out the door.

Climbing back under the covers, Lotor fell into a dreamless sleep.

——————————

The next day, around lunchtime, Lotor made his way to the room where they had agreed to meet. Knocking at the door somewhat cautiously, he was met with a cheerful, “Come on in!”

The door was unlocked. He entered to find the twins sitting together on a couch, and took a seat across from them. “Hello.”

It was nice that they were easy to tell apart now, with different hair colors and different-looking prosthetic arms— though Lotor supposed he had never actually known Shiro when he had looked the way Gyro did when he knew him but thought he was Shiro… Alright, it was still a little confusing, but at least he knew which one was which.

“Hey.” Gyro smiled at him, but looked faintly uncomfortable beneath it. They hadn’t spoken… since.

Shiro gave a small wave. “Hi.”

They all sat there awkwardly for a moment, no one knowing where to begin.

“So where do we start?” Lotor asked.

“I guess we can start with the obvious and go from there,” Shiro said. “First of all, what happened? To each of us, I mean. And of course, with anything, none of us _has_ to talk if we aren’t comfortable,” he added quickly.

“Alright.”

“I can go first.” Shiro said, though he hardly looked any more eager to speak than the other two. “Okay. So, I guess you guys mostly know this, but— okay. I was captured by the Galra Empire while on a scientific expedition from Earth.” He glanced up at Lotor. “I don’t know if you know this, but… I wasn’t a soldier or anything before the capture. I’ve been fighting since, but it wasn’t something I had experience with— I was a pilot on what was supposed to be an entirely peaceful space mission.”

“Oh.” Lotor was surprised. “I just assumed— you’re so capable in battle, I thought—”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s a reasonable assumption. But I wasn’t prepared at all for war. I mean, sure, I was athletic enough, and I had some combat training, but it was mostly to keep in shape. I just wanted to explore the universe, I never expected to have to fight for my life like that.”

“I think I sort of know the feeling,” Lotor said, earning a brief smile from Shiro.

“Anyway, so… long story short, I was forced to fight in their arena. Forced to kill or die. I feel like I became a monster— and they’ve certainly encouraged that feeling. I was experimented on, they cut my hand off, the witch messed with my head and apparently copied my memories, and I was beaten by guards and tortured multiple times and—” His voice wavered. “Sorry. I’m sorry, this is— hard to talk about.”

Gyro placed a hand gently on his brother’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper something, and then the two hugged for a moment.

“Okay.” Shiro wiped at the corner of one eye, clearly trying to maintain a casual demeanor. “I’m okay. Anyone else wanna go?”

“I can,” Gyro said. “So for the most part, mine’s the same as Shiro’s, because even though it didn’t actually happen to me, my brain has a copy of all those memories and I thought they were really mine for a long time. And even knowing they weren’t doesn’t make it go away, because I know consciously that the memories are implanted but I still _have_ them and they feel real. I mean, I know it’s not the same—”

“It still counts,” Shiro said firmly. “You don’t have to downplay it. It’s not your fault they hurt either of us, and it’s okay to struggle in dealing with it.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “And uh, I also have, like, fragments of when I was actually being created in their lab or whatever, which just come with this kind of confused helpless terror because I didn’t have the memories implanted yet and I had no idea what was going on and they were experimenting on me and—” He hesitated. “This part only came back to me recently, but… I mean, scars and amputations aren’t genetic. I’ve been having nightmares lately about it— about them doing that to me…”

Shiro looked horrified. “I never even thought about— god, you should’ve told me, I can’t believe I’ve been letting you suffer through that alone—”

“It’s not your fault. Stop it with the self-blame. Please. I know those things were horrible for you too.”

“Yeah, and you have them all _twice_.”

“It’s different, half of mine are fake.”

“They don’t feel fake to you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Gyro, of course it matters!”

“I— I know. Just please don’t worry about it, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

Shiro sighed. “Okay. Go on.”

“Well… I guess the last thing is when Haggar took control of me. I’d been getting these headaches and feeling kinda off for months, but I didn’t know why until— until she took over my body and forced me to bring you to her, Lotor, and then almost forced me to kill Keith— made me say all these awful things to him that I didn’t mean, that I never would have said, and made me attack him— I almost _killed_ him. I just… I was so afraid the whole time, I was trying to fight her but I couldn’t, and I felt like such a monster again. And then when I found out why, I felt even more like I didn’t deserve to live, because I was _designed_ for this. She created me to be a weapon, to hurt my friends— who weren’t even really _mine_ , because I was just a fake copy of someone else—”

“You’re not a fake copy, or a monster,” Shiro interrupted firmly. “You’re a good person, and you’re important to me. What they did to you is _not_ your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter who created you and why,” Lotor added. “After all, the witch created me too, didn’t she?”

“Thanks, guys. It means a lot.” They both turned to Lotor. “Do you want to tell us anything? It’s up to you.”

“Alright.” He supposed it was only fair. “Well… it’s really nothing on the scale of what you’ve been through.” He felt stupid now. Whatever he had to say paled in comparison.

“It’s not a competition,” Shiro said. “All three of us are traumatized. We don’t need to worry about who has it worse, it’s better if we try to help each other.”

“I suppose.” Lotor sighed. “Well, ever since I can remember, I’ve just been… alone. My parents apparently wanted to have me at some point, but that changed before I was even actually born. They’ve never wanted anything to do with me.

“My father always hated me, no matter what I did to try and make him happy. Eventually I found out that it’s because I’m half Altean, which is why everyone else in the Empire hated me too, but it still feels like I failed him. I’ve hated him for a long time, but as a child all I wanted was to make him proud, and no matter how skilled I became or what I accomplished, he never was. I mean, he wanted me _dead_ , and he tried to see to it himself.

“And my mother… she died before I was born, essentially. That witch is— was— not the same person… but somehow she _was_ , and it’s hard to accept. She was always cruel to me, treating me like a pawn and using her powers on me whenever it was convenient. When I found Honerva’s notes, it felt like I had someone on my side. A friend of sorts, even if she was long dead. To find out that she lived and _this_ is what she became… it meant I really _was_ alone. Everyone I’ve ever dared get close to has turned on me at some point— and it isn’t always their fault, for instance, Gyro, I don’t blame you, and I don’t blame Allura, and I don’t entirely blame my generals— but it just feels as though I’m not meant to have anyone for more than a short while. So I’m scared of having friends, but I’m also… lonely.”

“Lotor, you didn’t deserve any of that,” Shiro assured him. “The trust issues make sense, and it’s probably mainly from your parents abusing you, but for what it’s worth, I promise we won’t suddenly turn against you.”

Gyro nodded.

“Thank you,” Lotor said. “I mean, it’s really my fault, though, in the end. I was never abused like you were.”

“That doesn’t mean you weren’t abused.”

He shrugged. “I suppose that depends how you define it.”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment.

“Do you guys know what kind of stuff usually triggers you? If we share that, it might make things easier for all of us,” Shiro said. “Like, for me it’s perceived threats of violence, medical procedures, people trying to mess with my head, and being told I’m a monster or a killer or anything like that. There’s probably more, but those are the big ones that come to mind.” He looked slightly uneasy, but kept determinedly pushing the conversation forward.

“Again, mine are mostly the same,” Gyro said. “I guess one more is just… being thought of as like, a fake person or a mindless puppet or whatever. And any situation where I feel like I don’t have control of my body.”

Shiro nodded. “I get that second one too, yeah.”

“Lotor, do you want to share anything?”

“Yes, I just need a moment to think.” After briefly contemplating what types of things usually set these unfortunate episodes off, he continued. “Alright, I guess I have a few. Privacy invasion or thinking I’m being spied on, feeling like I’ve disappointed or upset someone but not knowing why, being compared to my parents, being looked at as a freak for my lineage or insulted based on it, being yelled at in ways that remind me of my father… I don’t know, there are probably more. Seeing death and violence is painful for me too, but I think I’m almost too used to them by now for it to be an issue in the same way it is for you.”

“Alright.” Appearing to sense his discomfort, Shiro moved things along. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“A little… off, I dunno. A little shaky, but I’m still glad we talked.” Gyro smiled.

“Me too,” Lotor said quickly.

“Okay, I guess we’re all pretty much on the same page then.” Shiro laughed. “I think that was good, but we need a break for sure. Do you guys want to get some food?”

“Sounds good,” Gyro said.

Lotor nodded. “Yes, that would be nice.” He hesitated for a moment. “May I say a couple of things first?”

“Of course,” the twins replied in unison, then glanced at each other for a second before laughing. “Go ahead,” Shiro said.

“Gyro… first, I wanted to apologize for avoiding you after what happened. I was afraid because I thought I had a friend and it turned out to be Haggar spying on me again, but I should have asked how much of it was you, because it sounds like you actually were in control most of that time. And I should have thought about how it might have hurt you, too. You should never have had to go through that.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry for—”

“Don’t. None of it was your fault.”

“Well, I’m just sorry I’ve been avoiding you too.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are we friends again?” he asked hopefully.

Gyro smiled. “Friends.”

They were all quiet for a minute or so.

“She thinks we owe her for our existence,” Lotor said suddenly. “Honerva feels entitled to do whatever she wants with us because _she_ chose to create us. Like no part of our lives or bodies or minds should be separate from her control.”

“Yeah.”

“She was sort of like that with me, too,” Shiro said. “I mean, she didn’t create me, but she sure acted like I owed her for trying to turn me into a weapon.” He shook his head in disgust. “That’s not what a parent should be. It’s manipulative and self-centered, and I’m sorry she treated any of us that way.”

The other two nodded.

“Was there something else you wanted to say, Lotor?” Gyro asked.

“Oh. Well, I was just thinking… I wonder, if we’re going to keep talking about things like this, if we should ever bring in Allura too— or Coran, for that matter. I mean, their entire planet was destroyed.”

"You're right." Shiro nodded. “Maybe Keith, too. He had a pretty difficult childhood—”

“And that’s not even to mention everything he’s been through since,” Gyro finished.

“Yeah. Hell, we probably all have some issues by now.”

“We all need so much fucking therapy, don’t we.” Gyro laughed, and the others joined in, becoming almost hysterical for a moment as their emotions struggled to settle back into place.

“Ready to eat?” Shiro asked finally, and the others agreed. The three of them headed out of the room together, hearts rather shaken up but somehow a bit lighter than usual for it. For the first time in a while, Lotor felt as though things really might be okay— as though maybe, finally, he wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

Maybe none of them would.

He could only hope.


End file.
